This chapter reflects my own mental processes and opinion, not scientific data, but it is a valid hypothesis, as valid as any other contribution a philosopher or therapist has made by simply stating their view.
Regulation requires something remarkable: in the very moment we are dysregulated and locked in the sympathetic nervous system, the parasympathetic system and the frontal cortex must somehow begin operating simultaneously, by choice alone, and communicate with the anxiety-driven brain strongly enough to take over.
But let us be emphatically clear: the sympathetic, anxious system is not done yet. It does not believe the danger is gone, and even when there is no real threat, poor breathing habits, a tight diaphragm, back pain, too much coffee, looming fears, and unresolved trauma keep it activated, so it holds on and throws distractions at the parasympathetic system and the rational brain trying to take over.
When the regulated side of the nervous system says, come on, let us calm down and breathe, the anxious mind fights back. It manufactures distractions, an itch, a craving, a sudden hunger, a person across the room who catches your eye and triggers an invented opinion, and just like that you have forgotten you were trying to regulate. Sit down for ten full breath cycles and the anxious brain deploys wilder and wilder interference. One side amplifies and the other goes quiet. The anxiety brain does not yield easily because it has been programmed to silence relaxation, suppress reason, and chase dopamine and other neurochemicals that make the discomfort temporarily bearable.
The breath is the only reliable way back in. It is the one lever available to both systems at once. When the anxious brain is running the show, we have to find the ground beneath us, literally, feel the floor, feel the chair, feel the body in space, and sensitize ourselves to what is actually present right now. Not the story the anxious mind is spinning. What is actually here.
That is the practice. Not once. Every time.
So what gives leverage to the relaxed nervous system? If it is absent of stress and worry, not entangled in ego and self-centered pursuits, what exactly is it? I cannot fully answer that, even at this point in my life. But I do believe it remains accessible. We could call it the Observer Self. Though it is still part of the brain, it is not caught up in the noise of the ordinary mind. It is whatever is left when all of that falls away.
Different people name it differently, and all of those names are valid. A Christian might call it grace. A Muslim might call it surrender to God. A Jew might call it the divine spark. A Hindu might call it Atman. A stoic might call it reason aligned with nature. A twelve stepper might call it a higher power. A compassionate atheist might simply call it the best of what a human being can be. A yogi, a martial artist, a kind zookeeper, a caring parent, a dedicated craftsman, any person in any tradition or no tradition at all can access this state. The name does not matter. What matters is the quality it produces, which is always the same. Love. Compassion. The better angels of what we are.
That is what is highest in us. And it is available to anyone willing to get quiet enough to find it.